Wednesday, February 13, 2013

A faded letter

People argue that prostitution is the worlds oldest profession. I have always argued that farming came first, prostitution came in response. You could also argue that being a mother is the oldest vocation as it does not come naturally to many.

There are many things I like to write about in prose. Prostitution is not one of them. The enormous stigma that comes with it makes it an awkward conversation starter. If you are a homeless or drug addicted female, there will be someone in the shadows gently nudging you into prostitution. I'm not talking about a pimp or panderer as many of those girls, and I do mean girls, do not use hard drugs. What I mean is that drugs require money. If your are not a thief or a fraud which I am not, there are limited other ways to fuel your habit. Prostitution is 90% acting and 10% action. It is a fantasy for many, an illusion that someone wants a connection with you even if you have to pay for it.

In my life as a soccer mom, I have had numerous women confide in me that their husband is addicted to porn, visiting strip clubs, chatting with other females. There was no Internet in 1992 so the avenues were very limited. It is easy to blame the woman but I can assure you I never realized how sexually enticing I could be passed out on the sidewalk. The potential dates would shake me and try to wake me up. I was fumbling through my shopping cart when a man in a station wagon with a car seat in the back offered to give me a ride. My participation in these activities was limited compared to many but I see the pain on all sides.

I had to learn to navigate the endless stream of offers of assistance for a place to stay, food, drugs, that were essentially traps that would involve someone demanding something of me. It was for that reason I chose to sleep outside for almost two years. There is a line from 1984 "under the spreading chestnut tree, I sold you and you sold me" or something to that effect. That was something that repeated in my head on a daily basis.
I can only provide my experience as someone with a Scarlett letter that is slight faded but still visible if to n o one but myself.


  1. Hi Tracey,

    Countless were the times that I found myself dopesick and jealous that I couldn't go sell myself like a female in my position could. Of course today, looking back on those times I realize the insanity of that entire thought process. I am grateful I am no longer there and that I am no longer that sad, insane and depraved being.

    You are remarkable, Tracey and while I hate that anyone else must share a kinship with me in that fraternity of madness, I am glad that we all have each other and we can at least be understanding/compassionate for one another.

    Always as your brother,

    Ed Y.

  2. Thanks for reading. I appreciate it

  3. Kinship in the fraternity of madness. I love that.